For what seemed like forever, I felt like I was floating on a cloud. I could feel myself laying down on something soft and cushy, but I couldn't move, and I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't think, either; my head was spinning so much that it refused to let any thought enter. I couldn't hear a sound either, as if I had gone deaf.

And then, I felt something cold on my forehead. The sudden cold jerked me almost to full consciousness. I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to budge. And when I felt something take ahold of my hand, I tried to fight it off; what the hell was it?

"No…don't…" I tried to say, my lips numb.

"Rocío…it's ok…" I heard a voice say. "Irodia, she's waking up."

"Rocío?" a female voice said. "Wake up, honey. Open your eyes."

Finally, after an eternity of struggling, my eyes finally decided to open up. I looked up, and a blurry ceiling greeted me, and then a redheaded woman appeared in my view. I blinked slowly a few times before recognizing her.

"I…Iro…Iro…"

"Shh, you don't need to speak," she said, putting a finger to my lips.

I shook my head. "What ha…happ…"

"I don't know. I thought you could tell me." She paused. "Mikhaila found you outside when I was about to give her a ride to school. She and I brought you inside. You were practically hypothermic, dear. What time did you go outside?"

"Don't know. What time…?"

"It's about nine in the morning now. We brought you in two hours ago."

"Gave us a scare there," Tyler said from behind her. "You must've been passed out outside for some time."

"I couldn't…shut him up. He wouldn't shut up…" I moaned, closing my eyes, pulling the thermal blanket they'd put on me closer.

"Who wouldn't shut up?" Irodia asked once Tyler left the room.

"Boh…wouldn't… He…he was telling me it was my fault for Sara getting hurt, and for…for Micchan…"

"You had a dream about him?" I nodded weakly. "Yumeko, he can't do anything to you now. Dreams can't hurt you, and neither can he."

"But he did at one time," I countered, my voice hoarse.

Irodia nodded solemnly, then showed me the knuckles of my hands. They were black and blue, with more than a few scrapes and cuts on them. "What did you do to your hands?" she asked. "Were you punching the wall outside?"

"I think so."

"Did you think you were hitting Boh in a way?"

I tried to think back to last night, tried to remember how I had ended up outside. I remembered waking up from the dream, and then pacing my room for a bit. I remembered getting dressed, but everything after that was a blur. "I don't remember," I said, my voice in a whisper. "I don't know."

"That's ok, that's ok. You just rest now," she said softly, removing the cold washcloth from my forehead; that must've been the thing I'd felt earlier. "Just sleep. Just rest today. I don't want you catching pneumonia or anything. Good thing you were suspended, hmm?"

I could feel something in my head click. Suspension…rain… "Sara!" I gasped, almost bolting up from the couch. "What about Sara?"

"She's in the ICU," Irodia replied. "Lucy called about half an hour ago to let us know. She said she'll be there for a couple days." She laid me back down on the couch. "I'm sure she'll call if anything changes, ok? Just take it easy."

"I'm heading out now," Tyler said, coming back into the room, adjusting his tie.

"All right." Irodia kissed him. "Be careful out there."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." He looked down at me. "Rocío, take care of yourself, ok? Try not to do any more rain dances for the time being."

"Ok," I sighed, fidgeting. "I'll try."

It was so strange. I remembered waking up in my room after having the dream. I remembered thinking that maybe I could have done more to warn Sara. And yet, I could not remember storming outside in the middle of the night in the pouring rain to pummel the brick wall until I passed out. How could I not remember something like that? Obviously Irodia was not lying; one look at my knuckles was proof enough of that. They were so sore it was hard to even form them into a fist, let alone hit anything. Irodia wrapped them up in bandages, then made a pot of hot chocolate for me, propping me up with several pillows when it was ready.

After she set up a tray for me, she set down the steaming cup and dropped two marshmallows into it. "Here, drink up," she said. "It should help you feel better."

I shook my head. "I can't," I said hoarsely.

"Why not, dear? Would you rather have some tea?"

"No. No, thank you. I just…can't. I haven't had it since Michiko…"

"It's ok," she said softly, brushing my hair out of my face. "I understand. But I really think you should have a warm drink in your stomach. I don't want you getting sick, that's all."

"Irodia, really, I'm fine."

"At least just take a sip. One sip can't hurt."

I sighed and took the cup in both hands, blowing on it to cool it off. "Ok, I'll take a sip. But only because you asked." After blowing on it again, I slowly brought the mug to my lips and took a slow sip, making sure not to go too fast; I didn't want to burn my mouth or tongue, after all. "Wow, that IS good!" I exclaimed. "It tastes different. What did you put in it?"

"Coffee cream," she said. "Makes it not taste as bland."

"Coffee cream?"

"Yes. I was skeptical too, until Tyler assured me it was alright." She looked at my hands. "You may want to put that mug down, Yumeko. You look like you're about to drop it in your lap. Here, let me take it." She gingerly took it from my hands and put it down on the tray.

"Thanks," I said, rubbing my sore knuckles. I leaned my head back on the pillows that were keeping me propped up and sighed. "I didn't mean…for everybody to worry about me. You don't need to. I'd worry about Sara and Juliana, not me. I'm fine."

"You practically broke both of your hands. Of course I'm going to worry about that. And you could've frozen out there if you'd been out there much longer!"

"I don't think I'd freeze to death from rain."

"It's winter rain, quite different from summer rain. Winter rain can turn to snow at any time."

"In this part of Cali?"

"We're in northern California, so yes, we actually do see snow once in a while. Don't look so shocked," she answered wryly.

"What? The nation's fruitbasket gets frostbite every so often?" I joked.

"I wouldn't call it that. I'd give that title to Hawaii or Florida. You'll never see a case of so-called frostbite down there in those parts."

"What about in the next ice age?"

Irodia managed a laugh. "Well, it's nice to see your sense of humor didn't wither up and die out there. Would you be up for a visit from Xania later on?"

"Sure. I've been wondering how she's been handling it, too. She was really upset after the crash yesterday…"

"Well…you two DID see it happen right in front of you. If she's upset, little wonder why."

I nodded in agreement and cast my eyes down.

-----

During lunch hour, Xania gave me a phone call to update me on what she had heard about Sara and Juliana. She didn't sound much better than she did yesterday, but I couldn't blame her for that. I was still upset myself.

"Juls is supposed to be getting out tomorrow, I've heard," she said. "And Sara…damn, I…I still can't believe she lost her legs. I haven't heard anythin' 'bout her. Wonder how she'll react when she realizes she's missing half her extremities?"

"Xania, please," I moaned, gingerly cradling the receiver with one of my sore hands. "I don't think you're making things any better."

"Well, it's not like things could get any worse!"

"Sara could still die! She could get a blood clot in her lung or something! Believe it or not, just because she survived the crash itself doesn't mean that other stuff won't happen, because it could!" I snapped. "I'm hoping it won't, but she's not out of the woods yet. She'll be in the ICU for at least a couple days, so until she gets out of there, nothing's certain, but…but I'm rooting for her."

"I am, too, Rosho. I…I just still can't believe it," she mumbled.

"You better believe it, then. It's real enough for Sara, and I've gone through enough to know what it's like to be in her shoes."

"Are you gonna repeat that rant that you went on at the hospital yesterday? 'Cause if you are, I may as well just hang up and get back to lunch."

"Xania, you CAN'T ignore it. I know it's awful to hear, but pretending it's part of a movie isn't going to help! I know! Look…how about we go visit them at the hospital after school, ok? I wanna go, and I bet they wanna see us and know that we're there for them."

There was silence on the other end, then I heard a sigh. "…You're right. Okay, I'll go. But if I can't stand to stick around in there, then don't force me to. I hate hospitals."

"I think just about everyone does. I know I do."

-----

Once school was over, despite Irodia's protests that I wasn't well enough to be going anywhere, I headed over and picked up Xania, then we made the trip to Cyprus Medical Center. I'd removed the bandages from my hands and put on my biking gloves to cover up the cuts and bruises, since I didn't want anybody to start worrying about me. Gripping the handles and steering the bike all that way didn't prove to be the best thing for them -- they started throbbing less than halfway there -- but I put up with it.

"So how come they're keeping Juliana for another day?" I asked her as we parked in the parking garage. "I thought they were only keeping her overnight."

"So did I, but I guess they just wanna make sure she doesn't have to make an impromptu visit back anytime soon," she said, climbing off.

We were both quiet as we left the parking garage and headed across the street to the hospital. The last time we'd seen our friends was in a ball of metal that used to be Sara's car; what should we have expected upon seeing them again? I was sure it would be similar to what my friends in Tokyo saw when they were keeping a vigil over me at the hospital after the sudden end of the Boomer summit. But like I had thought last night, this was the first time I was on this end of the stick instead of the other. I would've rather not been a patient nor a visitor, but I knew that if I just tried to avoid this, pretend it never happened, that I would regret it later. They needed me right now, there was no way I could just abandon them.

In the elevator, when we were heading up towards the floor we'd been told Juliana was on, I swore that Xania had started to shake. I was about to ask her if she was alright, but somehow I knew that she'd just snap at me, and I stayed right rather than risk having her bite my head off over what she would probably deem not a big deal.

"How can you hum at a time like this?" she finally asked as we got off the elevator; to keep from asking her if she was ok, I'd started humming an old tune.

"I just felt like it," I replied nonchalantly, continuing the tune as we walked down the hallway. She listened to me for a moment longer, then got a disgusted look on her face.

"Is that When Doves Cry?" she remarked. "Damn, you must be an oldies fan!"

"Seemed like an appropriate song to hum. And I'm not an oldies fan, I'm just well-rounded in music," I quipped. "And considering you recognized the song, I could say the same about you."

"Ha! My mom listens to the oldies station all the time! Only reason I know the song!"

"What're you two yelling about this time?" a familiar voice asked.

Both me and Xania stopped bickering and turned to face the source of the voice. Standing in front of us, in a greenish hospital gown, a sling on her arm, and her hair up in a bun, was Juliana.

"Juls!" Xania exclaimed, hugging her gently. "God, girl, you look better than I thought you'd be!"

"Thanks," she said, trying to smile. "I'm just here for one more day and then I can go. But...I don't think I can if Sara's still here." She adjusted her sling.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I hurt all over, of course. But it got stuffy in that room so I thought I'd walk around a little bit." She glanced from me to Xania, then back to me again. "Have either of you heard anything about Sara? The doctors won't tell me anything."

"Sara lost her legs," Xania mumbled, looking down as she scuffed the sole of her shoe against the floor. "An' she's in the ICU. They said she'll be there for at least a couple days."

"I already knew all that." She sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek. "After we crashed and I saw her legs, I already knew there was no way she'd be using them again. I told her...I told her the light didn't look green, but I guess she thought we'd been waiting long enough."

"We were just stopping to see how you were," I said. "We're going to go see Sara now, if they'll let us. Think they'd let you see her?" Juliana shook her head.

"They said it'd be a bad idea, that I should worry about myself right now. But I...just look at me! I'm alright and she's not! Of course I'm going to worry about her! She's one of my best friends!"

I started to reply, but was stopped when a woman shoved past me and embraced Juliana, who started to cry. "Now, dear, you can't get yourself worked up." The woman looked to be her mother. "We should get you back to your room!"

"No!" she cried. "I need to see Sara! I need to know how she is!"

"Xania," the woman snapped, turning towards her, "you and your friend should just go. You're making it worse."

"She wanted to know how Sara is, so we told 'er!" Xania snapped back.

"She's not in the state of mind to be able to handle something like that."

"The earlier she knows, the better," I interjected. "Better than feeling like everyone is lying to her by saying Sara is ok when she's not!"

"She's right, Mom," Juliana sniffed through her tears. "I wanted them to tell me. I didn't force it out of them."

"Hmph, fine," Xania said, turning to leave in a huff. "C'mon, Rosho, let's just go see Sara before this turns into a catfight."

"Why?" I asked. "Maybe I don't WANT to see Sara yet. Maybe I want to talk to Juliana's mom instead."

"What are you talking about, young lady?" the woman demanded. "Talk about what?"

"About keeping the truth from your daughter. Look, I got shot through the leg last year. Not in the leg, through. When I woke up I couldn't remember a damn thing, but once I figured out something was wrong with my leg, I demanded to know, and the docs threw the same hissy-fit you're throwing now. But I said I'd be finding out sooner or later, so I may as well learn it sooner. I had a breakdown after I learned the truth, but I knew I had to know." I took a breath. "No point in shielding anything, 'cause it'll come out sooner or later."

"How can you be walking if you were shot through the leg?" she inquired.

"Lots of physical therapy and lots of metal holding my femur together," I spat, not joking at all. "Okay. NOW I'm done talking."

"She's telling the truth, Mom," Juliana said, pulling away from her.

"Sara's not going to get any better with you down there fussing over her," the woman pointed out. "You can't do anything for her right now except get better."

"Since I have nothing to add," I cut in again, "I guess I'll be going. Hope we never meet again, ma'am."

Xania and I went back to the elevators and took it to the floor the ICU was on. I hadn't wanted to just leave on Juliana like that, but there was no point of staying if her mother was just going to harp on me. I couldn't even remember how it had gotten to that point, but I would have rather just not. I still found it odd that my friends were wonderful people and yet their mothers were just horrible, with the exception of Sara's mom, Lucy.

And speaking of Lucy…

"As much as I appreciate you two coming here to visit her," she said wearily, "I don't know if it's the best thing to do. She's been drifting in and out, and…and…"

"Are you just afraid to let us see her in that kind of shape?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've been in an ICU before, I ain't gonna see anything in there that's gonna freak me out."

"I don't care if anythin' in there freaks me out," Xania said quietly. "I…wanna see her anyway. It's gonna kill me if I don't."

"All right," Lucy conceded. "I don't think she realizes what's happened with her legs yet, so try not to bring it up."

I mumbled under my breath, then bit my lip to keep from saying anything else; I felt like saying "Why not?" – after all, once I knew something was wrong, I'd immediately wanted to know. I guess she didn't want to give Sara a rude awakening, but I didn't see the point of not letting her know. She would find out eventually. I sighed. Maybe she meant that Sara was too doped up to realize what was going on…oh hell. It confused me no matter how I tried to think of it.

Lucy led us to the door of Sara's room. I raised an eyebrow; all the private rooms in this section had clear walls so you could look into them, but I suppose that was for the doctors' benefit, so they could see if a patient was doing bad or fell outta bed or something. And heck…private rooms? When I'd been in the hospital, all the ICU patients shared one big ward-like room, with only curtains to separate them. I tried not to think about trivial differences like that as Lucy, Xania, and I walked into the room, the soft sound of beeping monitors greeting us. I looked up and saw a plasma TV on the wall, then looked to my right, where the sound of the monitors was coming from, and saw a small girl laying in bed, an IV in her arm and an oxygen tube across her face, two little prongs of it going up her nose. I looked for the lumps under the blanket where her legs would have been, but instead of seeing lumps, I just saw a flat blanket. I took a gulp of air and walked over to Sara's bedside.

"It's ok to touch her," Lucy whispered. "Let her know you're here."

Xania, afraid to move from the doorway at first, shuffled over next to me and watched as I took Sara's free hand into my own – the other arm was in a sling – and whispered to her. "Sara, it's me," I said softly, "Rocío. Xania's here too."

Sara's eyes fluttered, then she slowly opened them and, dazed, turned her head to look at us. "…Hey," she said tiredly, managing a smile. "What're you doing?"

"Visiting you, goofball," Xania joked, though from the look on her face, I could tell it was forced; the fake smile on her face wasn't the first thing to give that away. "What else would we be doing here?"

"Playing nurse, I suppose," she replied hoarsely. "An' by the way…didn't you dress as a nurse for Halloween a couple years ago?"

"Yeah, I did," she snickered. "Today I left that costume at home though."

I thought for a minute, wondering if this next question would be ok to ask, but I asked it anyway. "How are you feeling, Sara?"

She took a breath, then slowly brushed her bangs out of her eyes, her fingertips brushing the scab from the cut on her forehead. Whether she noticed that or not, I couldn't tell. "I remember driving in the rain…and then I remember you putting a coat over me…and I remember not being able to undo my seat belt…"

"She didn't ask about that," Lucy gently reminded her. "She asked how you're feeling."

Sara looked at the ceiling, deep in thought, as if she didn't know what was being asked. But after a brief pause, she looked at me again. "I…feel sleepy and dopey," she said, chuckling.

"If you're hurtin', you can just push the button on the morphine pump to make it stop," Xania suggested, looking a bit uncomfortable. I didn't know she knew what a morphine pump is, I thought.

"I'm ok," Sara said. "My legs feel a little funny, and I don't like having my arm in this thing, but…but I…" She yawned. "I don't mind it. It's kinda like having winter break extended a little longer."

Xania and I eyed each other nervously; apparently Sara didn't know about her legs at all. We both decided against mentioning it, though, just like Lucy suggested. "Kinda funny having it happen on the first day of spring semester, huh?" Xania asked.

Sara nodded. "Hope I don't get too much makeup homework to do."

"I'll make sure to bring it over," I joked.

We were only there for a little while longer. Although Sara had just woken up when we got there, after half an hour of talking she was already falling asleep again. Lucy suggested we leave and let her rest, and Sara reluctantly agreed. "I'd be a bit of a wet blanket if you were here and I was too busy sleeping to notice," she said, sleepily blinking her eyes.

"You take care, girl," Xania said, patting her on the arm.

"You too, Xania. Thanks for coming, guys."

"No problem," I said.

Once Xania and I were outside of the hospital, heading towards the parking garage, for no particular reason, Xania just started running ahead of me. "What's the hurry?" I shouted to her.

"Let's just get outta here!" she shouted back.

What's up? I thought, running to catch up with her. By the time I did, she was already on my bike, ready to go. "What's going on?" I inquired. "I know you didn't wanna see Sara like that, but—"

"Fuck that! It's not her, it's the damn hospital! Could we just get goin'? I don't wanna stick around any longer than I got to, ok?"

"I don't like hospitals either. They're not exactly my favorite place to hang around, but if we have a friend in one we need to be there!"

"I can do that! Just not for that long! The smell, it's…it's…nauseating! I hate the hospital smell!"

"I put up with it for two weeks once," I pointed out. "What is it about hospitals you don't like? I know it can't just be the smell. Is it the sense of sickness and death you can't put up with? Is that it?"

"You don't need to know that," she said, lowering her voice. I could hear her voice shake. "It ain't important for you to know."

"Does it have something to do with your parents?"

Right on cue, a fist flew at me. I instinctively reached and blocked it with my hand, wincing as it started to throb underneath my biking glove. "Stop talkin' about them!" she snapped. "I told you, don't bring them up! They're dead to me, so stop resurrecting them!"

I got in her face. "Xania, I've seen more than you'll EVER know! Nothing you tell me about your parents will surprise me, ok! So just tell me!" I yelled.

"Not unless you tell me about your bastard of a dad! We made that promise, remember?"

"I don't care about that damn promise I made! That doesn't matter right now, because obviously something relating to your parents and hospitals is making you nervous, and I want to help you out with that!"

"I don't need your damn help, Rosho! I can take care of myself!" She jumped off my bike and stormed off.

"Hey!" I snapped. "You plan on walking home?"

"I'll take the damn bus! I ain't hangin' around you if you're gonna play counselor on me! Fuck that bullshit!"

"I thought I could take care of myself too, but look how I turned out! I'm on the run from a bastard I was forced to run from. I didn't decide to run, that choice was made for me. Do you really think I'm happy with that? Don't you think I'd rather be home leading a normal life, going to my normal school with my normal friends?"

Xania strided back over to me, incensed. "Normal? You'd rather get beat to hell by your dad than be here? That's sadistic."

I straightened up my back and looked her square in the face. "No, I don't think it is. I'd rather have a chance to face up to him than have my head buried in the sand here. Me hiding out here makes me appear to the world as a coward, and I know I'm no coward."

"Well, apparently for the past seventeen years you couldn't face up to him, so what makes you think you can do anything now, Rosho? Your whole life you've been a coward, so how are you suddenly gonna grow a spine, huh?"

I snorted. "You know, Xania, you and I are more alike than you think. Wasn't the decision to run away made for YOU as well, by Social Services? You seem like you're happy with it, and yet when your parents are brought up, you're running away all over again. And you're chiding ME for running? Just look at YOU! You're no better than I am, but I'm not claiming to know all the answers either. I still deal with my demons every day, just like you."

"I have my demons, I admit," she said quietly, fire in her eyes, "but I'd rather not drag anyone else into it."

"Me either. Which is why I have these." I pulled off my gloves and showed her my beaten and bruised knuckles. "I had a fight with my demons just last night. I don't think I won though. I guess it'll take more than just fists to deal with them."

Xania sighed. "No kidding."

-----

As soon as I got back to Irodia's place after dropping Xania off, I went to my room and passed out on my bed; the hospital visit and my subsequent fight with Xania had taken more out of me than I thought. I knew Irodia was going to chide me for going out in the condition I was in, but I didn't care, although I made it a point to get to my room as soon as I could. If she knocked on my door, wanting to talk to me, I didn't hear her; I was out like a log.

For better or for worse, I was out of school for the next week due to my suspension, but even if I could go, I don't think I could have concentrated on schoolwork anyway. Not only was one of my friends still in the hospital – Juliana was out now – but now I had pissed off another, and when I called her house to talk with her, she refused, especially when I mentioned wanting to visit Sara again.

"What's up with her?" I demanded to Xania's mom when I got the cold shoulder from Xania again. "Do you know why she hates hospitals so much? I thought I was bad about 'em, but she takes the cake."

"I think you can put two and two together, Rocío," she replied, sounding annoyed. "There was an incident with her parents and a hospital."

"I figured THAT much out, but she doesn't want to talk about it."

"She never does. She'd rather bury the past and go on with her life, just like most people. She knows she won't accomplish anything by wallowing in it. And as much as you might want her to get it out of her system, when it comes to the battle of wills, Xania usually wins. So don't push the subject." She hung up.

Well, now I think I see why she has no close friends besides me, I thought, cradling the receiver. I'm the only one who's willing to put up with this. But how do I get her to talk about it without her wanting me to give lip in return too?

As much as I hated to, I decided to leave Xania alone and let her stew in her own misery for a while; I knew if I tried to press the matter she'd just end up dragging me down with her. I suppose my suspension was a mixed blessing in that way. If I'd gone to school, we'd probably run into each other and end up fighting anyway.

During said suspension, Irodia wanted me to help her with the grocery shopping and chores around the house, but given what had happened with Sara, I just couldn't do that. Whenever I could, I'd sneak out and go to the hospital for a little bit to visit with her. She and Lucy both seemed grateful for that. In fact, I happened to be right there when she was aware enough of her surroundings to realize something wasn't quite right with her legs.

"Rocío, I can't feel my legs," she said, her voice choking up. Lucy had stepped outside for a minute to get a snack from the vending machine. "It doesn't even feel like they're there."

I took a big gulp of air and swallowed, leaning forward. "Sara…do you remember the accident?" I asked. "Remember how the front part of the car smashed your legs?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I bled a lot, and you put a coat over them to try to stop the bleeding."

"Yes, but…" I looked down, trying to figure out the right way to say this. When I'd been the one in the hospital bed, the doctors tried to dance around it, but came straight out with it once I pressed further. I didn't want to do that to Sara; it was her body, she deserved to know. "Sara, they couldn't do anything to save your legs. They tried really hard, but they were forced to amputate above the knee. That's why you can't feel them or move them, because you don't have them anymore."

Sara's jaw fell open slightly, then closed. She turned her head towards the window, blinking back tears. I looked down at her hands; the knuckles were white, she was clenching her blanket so hard. Then, one of her hands let go and took one of my hands into hers. She looked at me again with a sad smile and said, "I kinda had a feeling… Mom wouldn't answer me when I asked. She kept saying I needed to rest. Why was she afraid to tell me? I should've heard it from her, not you…"

"I think she wanted to protect you, even though you obviously would've found out sooner or later," I said softly, squeezing her hand. "But it's not the end of the world. I know exactly what's going through your mind right now, and…and I can help you get through it, if you want me to."

Sara started to cry, and nodded eagerly. "Yes, please. I don't want to be like this forever! I want to…I NEED to live again!"

"You could get cybernetic legs if you want. I dunno how long it takes to learn to use 'em, but—"

"Yes, yes, I want those. I don't want to be a cripple for the rest of my life," she said, her voice stronger than I'd ever heard it. "I wanna walk, I…"

"Oh dear God," I heard Lucy gasp. She walked over next to me and threw me a dirty look. "You told her!"

"I had to," I said stubbornly. "You were too scared to tell her, and she had a feeling something was wrong anyway."

"She's too weak to handle that sort of news! I was going to let her get some strength back first!"

"Mom, please," Sara pleaded. "It's ok. I wanted Rocío to tell me."

Lucy sighed. "I would've rather she not, but it's a little late to do anything about that now."

"How soon can she get artificial legs?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, how soon?" Sara chimed in.

"Goodness, you look ready to jump out of bed already," the woman exclaimed, suddenly not looking so pissy anymore. "I don't know, I would have to ask the doctor. Hold on." She turned and headed out the door again.

"Oh, Rocío, I really hope it's soon!"

"I do, too. Hopefully you learning to use your new legs will be easier to do than it was for me to get mine back to near full strength."

"What do you mean NEAR full strength?" she inquired. "I've seen you on those bars. Your legs seem to work fine on that!"

"My legs get a workout from that, but the bars require more from your shoulders and arms and back than from your legs. The balance beam and floor exercises require a lot more from them. The beam…heh..." I scratched the back of my head and grinned shyly. "The beam was always a weak spot of mine to begin with. I'll have to work extra hard with my leg to get back to where I was on that."

"How long did you have to do physical therapy for?" she asked.

I thought for a moment. "Too long. I'm lucky I still have my leg, let alone walk with it without a brace. Still think it'll take a miracle for me to get to the Olympics though."

"Could you tell me about the therapy? I want to know what I'm in for."

"It's different with you," I sighed. "You won't have to do nearly as much. You'll have totally new legs. I got a hole blown in mine and had to learn how to use it again…" Right on cue, I felt it start to throb. I inwardly cursed and bent down to rub it.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, it just hurts whenever the weather's bed, that's all."

She looked at me glumly. "Are mine gonna be like that too?"

"I don't know."

Lucy came back into the room. "Sara, the doctor said he'll evaluate you in the morning. He said it takes a few days to prepare for the implantation surgery, so just letting you know you're not getting new legs tomorrow or anything."

"That's ok," Sara said, smiling. "As long as I get 'em soon!"

After I'd decided that I'd stayed long enough, I cut my visit short and left, despite Sara's insistence that I stay. I told her she needed her rest, and after she reluctantly gave in, I left and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. I never would have expected such strength from someone like her. She had always seemed like the kind of girl who would cave under the right stressors, but on the contrary, losing her legs – and soon to gain cybernetic ones – seemed to bring out her tough side. I had to admire her for that; it made me wish I'd been stronger when I started my physical therapy. I could remember breaking down several times during therapy and after watching the gymnastics tryouts at school, frustrated with myself that I couldn't even take a single step without that damned brace.

Once I got off the elevator on the main floor, I headed towards the main doors, thinking, I'll make sure she doesn't give up on herself, not like I wanted to do several times. I gotta show her that she'll have good days and bad. The poor girl, she has no idea what she's in for…

Exiting the doors, I was greeted by a blue truck parked nearby. It looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen it before…until the driver hopped out.

"Hey there, Rocío."

"…Greg?"

Greg grinned and walked over to me. "Xania told me you'd likely be here, and I saw your bike parked over there," --He nodded towards the parking garage-- "so I thought I'd wait."

"You could've come up to visit," I pointed out, crossing my arms. "Sara could probably use all the support she can get right now."

"Didn't want to intrude. It wasn't my place. You're her friend, not me." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of his truck. "If you're on your way home, I could give you a ride."

"If you're referring to Irodia's house, that is not my home. Never will be."

"Ok, could I give you a ride back to Irodia's house then?"

"No thanks. I have my bike."

"I can put it in the bed of the truck. We wouldn't have to leave it here," he suggested.

I glared at him. "Greg, I've had a very bad week, and needless to say, Sara's had an even worse one. If you're trying to sweet-talk me, I'm not going to fall for it."

"Rocío, I have no tricks up my sleeve, ok? Nothing," he tried to assure me. "I'm not a would-be rapist, I have no hidden agenda, and if you don't trust me, feel free to run a background check on me if you think it's necessary."

My leg started to throb, letting me know a downpour was imminent. I winced and bent down to rub it. A sign from the gods, I thought sarcastically. "Weeeell," I said, changing to a sweet tone, "my leg can't take this kind of weather very well, so…"

"What do you mean 'this kind'? It's just overcast."

"My leg hurts when it lets me know it's gonna rain. It just gave me the signal. I suppose it's a sign I SHOULD accept a ride from you, since you're offering." I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Cool, my own weather beacon," he joked. "Since you say it'll be coming down soon, I guess we should get going."

After I helped him get my bike into the bed of his truck, I got in the passenger's side and buckled my seat belt, Greg doing likewise. Before I knew it, we were already on the street, tiny raindrops starting to make their presence known on the windshield. I fidgeted and folded my arms over my chest. I knew Greg wasn't a bad person; deep inside I knew that, and yet…I was suspicious nonetheless. The words 'men' and 'bastards' seemed to be destined to always be in the same sentence. The word 'bastard' didn't seem to fit this guy giving me a ride, though. He actually had a good heart.

But would I admit that out loud? Not likely.

"Are you cold?" Greg suddenly asked. "You're fidgeting."

"No, I'm ok. Just thinking," I said.

"About what?"

"…Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Um…" What had I been thinking about before he had shown up out of nowhere? "Just…just admiring the grit Sara has had through her whole ordeal. I think she's dealt with it a lot better than I did when I was in the hospital."

"Is she going to get her legs replaced?" he asked. I nodded.

"She's all for it. The doctor is going to examine her tomorrow and see when the surgery can be performed."

"When can they do it?"

"I think Lucy said the doctor said it takes a few days to prepare for the surgery, so probably in the next couple days or next week or so."

"That's great," he said, smiling. "I'm happy for her. I hope she'll get used to her new legs and be able to get on with her life."

Even I haven't been able to quite do THAT, I thought, frowning to myself. "Nothing is ever as easy as people make it out to be, Greg. They're naïve that way. I was naïve like that once too, but not anymore. But there's no point in mourning over the death of naïveté. For everyone, it dies sooner or later; either people give it up, or they try to hang on to it and get every last breath they can out of it."

"I think that's also called being in denial. But personally, Rocío, I'd rather live my whole life being naïve than constantly thinking that the world is out to get me, that it's all gonna come to an end. Instead of worrying over the fact that I'm gonna die someday, I just try to concentrate not on that, but that I'm alive right NOW, and I'm doing to do whatever I've wanted to do while I still can, before I become one of those old geezers who die regretting they've never done whatever they wanted to do with their lives. If you could choose, would you rather die at age twenty-five, having done everything you wanted, or live to be eighty and not having done a damn thing?" He paused. "I know what I would choose."

"Fact is, as you get older there's always gonna be more stuff that you'd like to do," I pointed out. "So I doubt that anybody dies having done truly everything they wanted to do. Me, I still have a lot of living to do…but…sometimes I don't know if I should."

Greg didn't say anything under we got to a red light. After he stopped the truck, he turned to me and asked, "Why not?"

"Before I came here, a friend of mine was murdered. She tried to protect me, and…I've never been able to get over that. I wish I could've done something to protect her, and I'll probably be asking that of myself for the rest of my life: what could I have done to help her? She was my best friend, I should've…at least tried." I felt my whole body tense up at the memory, emotions threatening to boil over inside me. I bit my lip and pushed them down until my body hurt with the effort. It was still all too fresh in my mind, the events of five months ago. Michiko WAS my best friend, but I didn't want to remember seeing the police cart her body out of that alley, seeing her necklace sans amber heart at the end of it. I refused to let that be my last memory of her.

My eyes were closed, but I felt a warm hand touch my left hand, and another hand touch my right cheek. When I opened my eyes, Greg turned my face towards his, and before I could react, I felt his lips on mine. A shudder shot through my body in surprise; indeed, I was so surprised I couldn't even pull away. I felt frozen in the moment.

"You looked like you needed that," he said casually as the light turned green and we headed down the street again.

"W…what…what…was that?" I stammered, the blood rushing to my face; I was sure my eyes were as wide as saucers. "You kissed me!"

"Yes, I did. And like I said, you looked like you needed it. Plus, it was a good distraction, wasn't it?" He grinned innocently.

"You KISSED me!"

"You act like you've never been kissed before," he said, laughing. "Man, you should see yourself in the mirror now!"

"I'm not saying I didn't like it. It just…surprised me, that's all."

"I guess you would have liked fair warning first?"

"…Something like that!"

"Should I get permission next time?"

I blushed an even deeper red. "I…no, I didn't say that, either. I'm just…I…damn, I don't know what to say."

Greg snickered and turned onto Irodia's street. "That's ok. Can't expect everybody to know just what to say all the time."

"R-right…"

As he pulled into the driveway, it became apparent to me: he'd probably given me a ride home not only because it was part of his chivalrous self to help out a 'damsel in distress,' but also to plant a kiss on me when I least expected it! He'd had it planned!

"You sure went through a lot of trouble if all you wanted to do was kiss me," I said as we got out of the truck and unloaded my bike from the bed.

"Yeah, but if you really want something, it's worth the trouble, right?" he asked.

"But it was a measly kiss."

"Well, YOU sure didn't treat it like a measly kiss!"

"Hey!" I snapped teasingly as I swatted him on the arm, making him laugh.

"Am I right?"

"Yes, you're right. But don't mention this to anybody."

"Of course not, unless you say it's ok to."

"It's NOT ok. I'm sure you meant to do that in the privacy of your truck just to make sure there wouldn't be any gossip going around."

"Of course." He kissed me on the cheek, and this time, I didn't flinch. In fact, it even felt nice. I touched my hand to the spot where his lips had been as he said, "See you at school, Miss Monterrey."

"Sure, sure," I groaned.

As he pulled away, I just stood there in the driveway, my hand still on my cheek, having completely forgotten about the pouring rain I was standing in. The hazy confusion dissipated after not too long, during which time I thought, What a jerk! He ambushed me! But why hadn't I hit him when he'd ambushed me? Because it…felt nice? Ha!

But it did kinda feel good… Oh hell. What am I supposed to do? He has a crush on me!

-----

If Irodia noticed that something had happened when I walked in the door, my cheeks still slightly red, she didn't say anything, and neither did Tyler or Mikhaila. And damned if I could hardly get a wink of sleep that night! Stupid Greg, kissing me like that! Why couldn't I stop thinking about it? The feel of his lips on mine had long since vanished, but the memory refused to do the same. His hand on mine, followed by…argh! I swore I was going to punch him in the arm next time I saw him, or better yet, in the mouth so he wouldn't be able to kiss me due to a swollen lip!

Things have a way of not working out like you plan 'em, I suppose. I learned that whenever I saw Greg at school for the next two or three weeks; he musta known I was out to get him, because whenever we did see each other in the hallway, he made it a point to stay out of arm's reach of me. I'd nonchalantly pass him by, giving him an evil look, while he just stood there with a silly smirk on his face.

The situation with Xania gradually started to go from cold to lukewarm as February approached, which was probably easier for both of us since we did share several of the same classes, during which we did sit next to each other. At first she'd just ignore me, but after only a few days it became evident that she wouldn't be able to do it; she admitted as much later on.

I don't know how long it took her to learn about the little incident between Greg and me, but I know she didn't learn it from me. Nonetheless, the day she asked about it, I saw her reaction coming a hundred miles away.

"About damn time!" she exclaimed at the beginning of February, a full two weeks after said incident.

"About damn time for what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, although I had a feeling what she was inkling at; the goofy grin all but gave it away.

"I told ya he's a good kisser! Ain't I right, huh? I knew it was only a matter of time!"

"You mean Greg?"

"Who else would I be talkin' about? Of course I mean Greg!"

"And who told you about this?" I inquired.

"I'll just say I have my sources," she replied curtly. "Ya know what they say about that."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So fill me in!" She practically jumped out of her seat as she said that. "Inquirin' minds are dying to know!"

"Nothing to say, it was a run-of-the-mill kiss," I said, though I didn't know exactly what that meant.

"Yeah. Fucking. Right," she snickered. The teacher walked in at that moment, and while she told everyone to settle down, Xania whispered to me, "I want details later. Mind if I come to your place after school?"

"I have my tai chi lesson today."

"I know. I'll come by after you're done."

I rolled my eyes. "I'd rather not talk about it. Any way I can buy my way outta this?"

"Not today," she replied with a smirk, flicking her tail against her chair.

-----

"It's nice to know that you and your friend are patching things up again," Kenneth said as we worked on warm-up exercises. "I can say that I almost missed her wisecrack remarks while she'd sit and observe."

"I was surprised that she even joined in during a few sessions," I admitted. "But that didn't last."

"No. She thought it was silly."

"But she did admit her legs hurt like hell after she first tried it out!"

"Another reason she relegated herself to observer. A pity I couldn't get her to join us."

I stopped stretching my legs and started twisting my torso from side to side, elbows bent. "She's into the fast stuff, like karate. Only fast stuff I've been into is sparring and gymnastics."

"How has that been going?" he asked, beckoning us to start on the long form. "Your gymnastics, I mean."

"It's been a little hard to stick to my original plan," I said, slowly making my way through part one of the form. "I wanted to come here to the gym every day after school and practice until it closes at nine. But I've been spending a lot of that time visiting Sara in the hospital, and plus Irodia wants me to make homework a priority."

"School should be one of your priorities," he agreed, going through the brush-knee sequence.

"I don't care about school. I'd rather get lost in my workout than in a pile of textbooks."

"Unfortunately, Rocío, the worst thing getting lost in textbooks will do is give you a brain freeze. The worst you can get from gymnastics is a torn ACL and the loss of that as your career as a result. Or a ruptured Achilles tendon."

"People have recovered from those. I'd still like to see how many have recovered from getting a hole blown in their leg."

Kenneth sighed and stopped after he finished part one, prompting me to stop as well. "I don't think you should get your hopes up. You haven't told me how long it's been since your last competition, and I don't know if the Olympic committee would consider someone who's been idle for the last who-knows-how-long."

"That wasn't my fault!" I snapped. "Do you think I MEANT to get shot? 'Cause I didn't! I'm lucky I can even walk without a brace!"

"Yes, you are. That in itself is a miracle, which is why I feel it necessary to point out that your Olympic dream is a long shot at best. I'm not saying this to discourage you, Rocío, I'm simply telling you the reality of your aspiration."

"That's what Boh said too," I mumbled to myself through gritted teeth.

"What was that?" he asked, leaning in closer.

"Nothing," I responded flatly. "People in the gymnastics world know who I am. They also know what I've been through and why I haven't been in competition lately. That said, I think they'll at least let me give them a show to see what I can do."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I just have a feeling is all."

He scratched at his chin, deep in thought. "If you're a diamond in the rough as you seem to claim to be…then how come there isn't a horde of reporters following you around as you aspire to be the comeback kid of the year?"

"Just lucky," I replied blandly, biting my cheek as I knew that I couldn't tell him the true story. Low profile, everybody had told me to keep a low profile…it was part of the reason I hadn't dared to join the high school gymnastics squad when I'd come to Sacramento. Besides, at the time I had barely done any gymnastics workouts at all, not to mention I was still recovering from Boh practically gutting me. But oh, here in February, how far I felt I had come!

…Well…physically, at least.

Emotionally was a matter that I was wont not to touch upon even briefly. Whatever went on in my head, I wanted to stay there, buried underneath that layer of grey matter and other stuff. I just figured if I could make myself feel good physically, then feeling good emotionally would naturally follow.

Oh, how naïve that thought was.

-----

My head swam during the drive back to Irodia's house from the gym. It was February now, and that meant the NHK Cup – which was basically considered the preliminary round for the Olympic trials – was in three months. I was practically hell-bent on making sure I'd be home in time to participate in the event, but Kenneth's earlier remarks stabbed into my subconscious like needles. He'd been right; I'd been out of competition for a long time, as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself. Sure, I'd been all-around champion at Nationals in '54, and third all-around at Worlds the same year, but I didn't know if that would mean a damn thing in the long run.

For one, those weren't the most recent Nationals or Worlds to have occurred, so I wasn't exactly reigning champ at the moment. And on top of that, I'd done those competitions before I became a Knight Saber…

…before I'd been shot at the summit…

…before I'd been stabbed by Boh…

…before Michiko was killed…

I squeezed my eyes shut as images of those events flashed in my head. Boh's smirk, the twinkle in his eye…the Boomer's laugh as it choked me after I'd been shot and was completely helpless…Michiko telling me goodbye for the last time, saying she would see me tomorrow…

"Damn it!" I cursed to myself, pulling over to the side of the road. Becoming the mood, the sky was overcast, threatening to dump rain on me. I yanked off my helmet and slammed it to the ground; at the same moment, there was a crack of thunder in the background.

"Tomorrow never came!" I screamed into the sky. "Where is it? Why can't I have it NOW? Give it to me! Give me back Michiko!" I dropped to my knees, my body shaking from the emotions threatening to burst forth inside me. I couldn't let them gain control…I couldn't lose myself again…I didn't want to…

I slammed my fist into the sidewalk, screaming aloud in desperation. February! The past six months were six months that Michiko never got! Why should I have gotten them when she didn't? She'd been more deserving of them than I was! Why did she die and I didn't? I couldn't understand it at all! It had always seemed like good-hearted people were the first to meet death, but why? I wanted to hear the answer!

But I knew that only God knew the answer. And, pun not intended, Lord knows that He wouldn't tell it to me, wanting me to figure it out myself. No…it can't be that Michiko was too good for this planet, I thought. She's too good for heaven! That's what it is! So why isn't she still here and not up there!

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" I screamed, arching my head back, letting the now-pouring rain drench me. "IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!" I pounded the sidewalk again, my wet bangs sticking to my forehead, my drenched hair plastered to the back of my neck. Why did she leave? She wasn't supposed to! We Knight Sabers were supposed to be the ones to die, not the innocents! Not our best friends!

I felt a warm wetness make its way to my lips. It was unlike the cold rain pouring down on me; it tasted salty. I wiped away the moisture from my face, and came to the realization that I must have been crying. But I hadn't felt like I was. I'd thought I was just screaming, screaming to nobody, maybe screaming to God, hoping He would hear me… Ah hell. Even if I'd been heard, I doubted He'd care enough to give me an answer anyway. Nobody wanted to be straight with me, it seemed…not even my fellow Sabers or my own mom.

I clamped my hands together, imagining them around Boh's neck. Oh, how I wanted to have the chance to kill him again for what he'd done to Michiko, to me…but damn, if wishes were horses, I'd be knee-deep in shit, wouldn't I… Hell, I think I already was. But since I obviously couldn't kill Boh again, I figured I'd try to do the next-best thing: find a release for all this anger, these emotions that were ready to practically pour out of my ears, I was so filled to the brim with them. I had to get them out!

At this rate I knew I couldn't head back to Irodia's house, not in the state of mind I was in; I was probably liable to kill somebody over there. Where was a place I could go to find a somewhat-safe outlet for my rage? I felt the lump in my jacket where I kept my gun, and the answer came to me:

The Black Spider.

-----

"Damn it!"

I threw myself against the side of the dumpster for the umpteenth time, trying to move it aside so I could get into the Black Spider. I shoved all my weight into it, but it barely moved an inch. Damn, it was so much easier when I had Xania with me. When I decided to come here, I'd completely forgotten about the dumpster. Dumb move.

"Hey. You're Rocío, right?"

I turned around at the sound of a male voice directed at me. "Yeah, how did you kn…" I peered closer at the man's face. "Oh! Juan! What're you doin' here?"

"I'd ask you da same thing. Need help wi' dat dumpster?"

"Yeah. I didn't know how hard it is to move by myself."

Needless to say, with an extra person, the dumpster was a lot easier to move, and in a matter of seconds the door to the shooting range was exposed. Juan and I entered and headed down the stairs, and I mentally hit myself over the head when the horrific smell emanating from the halls hit me; I kept meaning to bring a noseplug whenever I came here, but it always slipped my mind…

"Look what the cat dragged in," Bert quipped when he saw me and Juan. "A drowned rat."

"Not quite drowned, just merely gagging for air," I said, brushing my soaked bangs out of my face. "You here all the time or what?"

"Somebody's gotta be here if anybody needs some firearms," he said, shrugging it off. "Either me or Juan'll be here."

"Anybody else help you run this place?"

"Yeah, but I ain't at liberty to tell ya who." He struck a match and lit up a cigarette. "What do you need, kid?"

"Just…pissed at myself, pissed at the world. Hell, who am I NOT pissed at?" I started pacing back and forth. "My life is…a hellhole! The last year, year and a half…I'd rather just forget any of it happened! And I can't! I try to push it out of my mind, and I just can't! I can't forget that my best friend died, that I was shot and stabbed and…and tortured!"

Bert took a drag of his cigarette, then blew the smoke out of his nose. "Life is like that. Fucks you in the ass till the day you die. Sometimes the only thing you can do to make it any easier is to invest in a good lube."

"A…a lu…huh?" I stammered. Interesting analogy there, I guess… I was dumbstruck. "Ok, and what the hell would come closest to a lube, huh?"

He walked over to the gun cabinet, unlocked it, and threw the doors open. Bending down, he lifted up one of the planks that made up the bottom of the cabinet and took up something in his hand. Motioning to Juan to lock the cabinet up again, he walked over to me and dropped it in my hand. "That's what I'd call a lube," he said.

I didn't even need to read the label to know what was in the bottle. The bottle was identical to one that I'd had during my months of rehab for my leg. "Hydromorphone," I breathed.

"Oh, familiar with it?"

"You could say that. I practically got addicted to this stuff after I got shot."

"Yeah, morphine and its sibs will do that to ya if you're not careful," he agreed, taking another drag from his cigarette. "ODing is a real bitch with that stuff too."

I nodded, remembering what I'd heard about painkillers like morphine. One of the effects of it was that it slowed down a person's respiratory system. Too much of it and it'd shut it down entirely. Wouldn't be a bad way to go, actually, but then again, I wasn't considering suicide. I just needed an escape, that's all.

"So you're a gun dealer AND a narcotics dealer. Deal anything else I don't know of?"

"Nope, that's it. But if you want that stuff, I'm gonna have to have ya gimme your gun first."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?" I inquired.

"Guns and drugs don't mix," he said in a deadpan voice. "Playin' with a gun while high can lead to some bad shit, get my drift?"

"Makes sense, I guess. When would I get my gun back?"

"When you're off your high."

"Can I just buy this stuff from ya and use it elsewhere?"

"You could, but I ain't responsible for anythin' that happens outside o' this place."

I opened the bottle and filled the dropper with the pink liquid. "How much for the bottle?"

"Seventy-five bucks, and I ain't doin' payment plans with that either."

"Fair enough." I emptied the dropper on my tongue and swallowed the fluid, then whipped out my wallet and handed him the money. He motioned for my gun, too, and I rolled my eyes and handed it to him.

As I felt the familiar buzz start to kick in, I smirked and plopped down on the floor. I just felt like moving around in circles, it was so pleasant. "I jus' came here to fire my gun a bit," I said, giggling. "To let off some stress, y'know. If I'd known you had drugs too, I mighta gotten some earlier!"

Bert ground out his cigarette under his boot. "What kinda drugs you done b'fore?"

I shrugged. "Just this stuff. Never done weed or heroin or anything like that. Painkillers work for me just fine."

"Painkillers, y'know, ain't anything to fuck around with. It's too easy to get dependent on 'em, and then without 'em that ass-fuck that life is givin' ya will hurt all the more. I don't recommend you use it every day."

"Oh, I know, I know," I said, rolling the bottle between my palms. "I know enough not to do THAT, but I do love the buzz it gives me. I feel very…giggly right now. My leg isn't hurting anymore either." My leg, which had been hurting like hell earlier due to the rain, now felt fine, the throbbing reduced to a fraction of what it was before. I bent it several times; it was still kinda stiff, but that was better than it hurting.

The last time I could recall taking hydromorphone was the night I went to Genom Tower and killed Boh. I'd used up the last of it, and since there hadn't been too much left, it hadn't given me a buzz; it had, however, dulled the pain from my stab wounds. That was only one of many times I used it to seek release from my physical pain. It dulled the mental pain too, but only somewhat. Just because I was buzzed at the moment didn't mean that I forgot about Michiko.

"She's not feeling any pain now," I told myself softly, rocking my body back and forth. "She'll never have to feel it ever again."

"Who ya talkin' about?" Juan asked, lighting up a cigarette of his own.

"My friend Michiko… She was killed, and I couldn't do anything about it. I still think it should've been me and not her."

"You can't help that," Bert grumbled. "That's life fucking you in the ass again. Losin' a friend is one of the hardest things you'll ever go through, and I dunno if any drug'll help with that kinda pain." He smirked. "Doesn't mean you can't try though."

"If I could undo it, I would. I really wish I could."

"Everybody wants to undo certain events. But imagine how fucked up history would be if everybody had a time machine and went back to undo this or that, or change this or that!"

"I can't."

"Me either. Now you see my point." He paused. "Life events shape us, whether we like 'em to or not. Change one of those events and you'll change who you are."

"If Michiko were alive, I wouldn't be half as bitter as I am now."

"Probably, but there's no way of knowing now. And who knows, maybe you'll learn somethin' from her death."

"Like what? That life DOES suck as much as I think it does?"

"Among other things," he said, nodding.

"For some reason you sound like some old mage or something to me," I mused, managing a smirk. "Why?"

"I ain't old, and I ain't no mage. I'm just a guy who knows all too well what hindsight is. That's part of how I got this." He pointed at the scar above his right eyebrow. "I know what it's like to lose a friend, kid. I accidentally helped get him killed. I ain't goin' into details, but when I realized his death was partly my fault, I tried to put a bullet in my head, but my hand was shakin' too damn much, and the gun discharged. The bullet shot up right in front o' my face and caught me just above my brow."

My eyes widened. "W…when was that?"

"Years and years ago. I musta been, what, seventeen at the time or somethin'."

"…I'm seventeen now," I said slowly, my tongue not wanting to work. "And I was responsible for Michiko's death."

"Suicide's just the easy way out," he told me, startling me when he bent down and put a hand on my shoulder. He hadn't seemed like the type who liked to be touched. "I said that life is always fuckin' you in the ass, and going on livin' when you feel like dyin'…THAT'D be your version of giving it the bird. I like giving life the bird every fuckin' chance I get."

"Amen!" Juan coughed.

"I hear that," I agreed. When life shoves you, you gotta shove back…that was the gist of it. I was sure trying to push back, and hard, but what if I was tired of shoving?

No…that wouldn't happen. I couldn't let it happen. Had to keep shoving…it was the only way to keep going…

It was the only way I knew how…